


There's No Joke

by Emby_M



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emby_M/pseuds/Emby_M
Summary: The night is perfect and Kirin doesn’t suspect a thing.-Paolo has a pretty important question for Kirin.





	There's No Joke

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work full of personal headcanons but like, there's a real lack of content on this site for Kirin and Paolo. Didn't post for a year and only now care enough to slam this short baby here. I think it's pretty cute tho, so leave kudos and comments if you're so inclined.

The night is perfect and Kirin doesn’t suspect a thing.

And why would he? The night is the same as most — they had laughed and played with the Howlers, Paolo behind the bar, Kirin atop it, perched, sitting, maybe singing (he had performed before, it didn’t leave his blood so easily). When they got tired, Paolo handed off the duty to Mindy, who made altogether too strong of drinks but knew, at least, how to deal with drunks.

 _You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, ya nasty bastard_ , she’d say.

So Kirin and Paolo are out on the balcony of Paolo’s modest flat, looking out onto the roofs and courtyards and terraces of Howler turf, bumming a cigarette off each other (they argue every night about whose it is but one of them lights it while it’s in the other’s mouth, so it’s a moot point.)

There are the sounds of whooping drunks in the bar and mothers calling in their kids for dinner and dogs barking and people laughing from their balconies and terraces, and it could be called Karnaca’s version of quiet.

Neither of them would have it different, though.

And the sun is slipping down in the sky, casting those shadows that just — for a second — make everything look unreal, painting the clouds golden and pink and the softest, softest blue.

And Kirin is laughing. Which is not new, or strange, but is endearing.

And there’s nothing new to give him. They already have a ring each, cemented in place on their fingers. And they knew — knew — they were going to stay together.

So it’s — stupid, maybe, and useless to do what Paolo does, but there’s no better time and Kirin is smiling and so is he, so…

He gets down from their settee, and kneels in front of Kirin.

Not on one knee. That would feel… pompous, after so many years, as though he were saluting a noble. And Kirin is no noble.

No, Paolo gets down on both knees, before his love, his dearheart, like he was praying.

And he smiles gently. A soft, cotton-down smile.

And he takes Kirin’s hands and Kirin looks like he wants to say something and wants to make a joke but…

There’s no joke.

Instead, Paolo just asks him to marry him.

And Kirin, the run-thy-mouth genius who could never shut up, is speechless.

And not for a moment, either. For several long moments as he gapes, first at Paolo, then at himself, at their hands and Paolo’s smile which is now just faltering, and-

And then, that bold brash inventor puts his arms around Paolo’s neck and leans into him, and nods, silently.


End file.
